“Seventeen and finally… Twenty five.” “Holy fuck!!! Maz, MAZ? Did you hear that??? Oh my fucking god, oh my god, oh my god!” CG brought her...hands up to her face, simultaneously putting a powdery handprint on either cheek and dropping both the phone and the bowl of beaten eggs. Her cell landed briefly in the sticky liquid as it fell to the tiled floor, where both bowl and gadget broke into pieces in a yellow, sticky, eggy puddle. “CG? What’s going on? Are you okay? Talk to me, Curly! Shit, do. The reason public transportation features heavily in my recounts, is because I am a creature of habit, I go out looking for men like that old man in my youthDuring my first year at University I met a guy who claimed to have a old video about my mother from her first year at the same University.Naturally I was very intrigued but another reason was I fancied him like mad and I wanted to sleep with him so I agreed to watch my mother's home movie with him knowing deep down it was about sex, which. More

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